Another Holmes
by Fred is my name
Summary: Ainsley Holmes is very different from her brothers. She has always had a different sense of morality and is now working for James Moriarty.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello people of the Internet. I was bored and this is what my brain produced. I may continue it, but I dunno. Hope you like it :D**

* * *

She tugged her hair down and let it fall once more around her shoulders. She relaxed into the comfortable chair. She had had a long day and was looking forward to the sure to be interesting conversation that would be taking place soon. If she had timed it right he would be arriving home any minute now. Just as this thought crossed her mind she heard the distant sound of a key entering the lock. She smiled to herself and her heart began to beat faster in anticipation of her discovery. She heard his footsteps stutter as he walked into the entryway. Her smile widened as she imagined him spotting her shoes and bag lying by the door. She sat patiently waiting, pretending not to be counting each of his footsteps. She heard him stalk ever closer and it took all her willpower not to turn around. She heard his quiet breath behind her head and the sound of a gun being cocked. The cool metal pressed into her hair.

"You have exactly 12 seconds to explain to me who you are and what you are doing here." He said his voice a low growl.

"Is that anyway to treat a guest Jimmy? I am simply here to discuss business." She said teasingly.

"7" He said without even a hint of mirth.

"Oh fine. My name is Ainsley and I would like to work for you. Over the past week I have interrupted four of your jobs to show you my capabilities." She said hurriedly.

"That makes me want to shoot you more."

"Oh come on Jim, think about it." Ainsley said calmly, "not many criminals would be able to figure out what you are doing let alone commandeer your heist. I want to work with you. If you refuse I will just continue to mess with your plans."

"Why do you want to work for me? You are clearly a competent enough criminal on your own."

"Oh stop it you're making me blush." She said bringing back her teasing tone. He still didn't seem to be amused if the gun pressing to her head was any indication. "I ran out of things I wanted. I got everything I wanted and didn't know what else to do. Retirement was out of the question as that would be far too dull, but I really didn't know what else to do. I started taking on private clients, but soon realized that that wasn't for me. I like solving puzzles, not pickpocketing someone's ex-lover. Then I heard about your network and was intrigued. I weaseled my way in and commandeered ing to get your attention, but you didn't even try to chase me. I started trying to track down where you lived and in the meantime messed with a few more jobs." As she spoke the gun slowly pulled away from her skull.

"And what makes you think I'd hire you? I have plenty of thieves on my payroll and you only interrupted the small jobs." He said walking around to sit in front of her, though still keeping the gun pointed at her.

"Ah, but I am not a thief. I don't take things. I convince people they want to give me things."

"So you're a grifter? I have a hundred of them, what makes you any different?."

"You're an observant man, you tell me." Moriarty looked at the woman in front of him. He was holding a gun mere inches from her face, yet her face didn't show a hint of fear.

"All I can tell you are the simple facts. Judging by your voice you were born in London, but have spent quite some time in America. You travel a lot and do not have any permanent place of residence. You are not one for hard work. You have siblings, but you aren't close with them."

"And what does that tell you? I'm sure a smart man like you can figure out more than that. I know my brother can." She said the last sentence very deliberately gauging his reaction intently. He stared at her another second, taking in her dark, curly hair and her bluish grey eyes.

"Ah, so you are a Holmes. How do I know you are not here for your brothers in some pathetic attempt to infiltrate my network?"

"You said it yourself: I have siblings, but I am not close with them. My brothers and I have always had a difference of opinion when it comes to legality. Mycroft was always worse than Sherlock, but even Sherlock has his issues with morality. More now with his new pet."

"And I am supposed to take your word for all this?" Moriarty asked harshly, though secretly he was thrilled. He had a Holmes on his side.

"Of course not," She said with a smile. She pulled out her phone and went to the contacts. She pulled up Mycroft's number and dialed without any hesitation. She quickly turned it to speakerphone.

"Ainsley, to what do I owe this… pleasure." Mycroft answered, though judging by his voice it was anything but.

"Hello big brother. It has been a while."

"Yes. Over three years. Why are you calling? Did you finally get caught?"

"As if, I am back in London and wondered if you wanted to get lunch?"

"Ainsley, it has been three years since we last spoke and would prefer to get back to that." Mycroft said ending the call.

"So you see James, my brothers are not my biggest fans." Ainsley said sliding her phone back into her pocket. James Moriarty could no longer deny that he was excited. He smiled at her.

"Welcome to the team."


	2. Chapter 2

**Hello! So I rewrote this one thrice and I am finally somewhat happy with it. Hope you like it :D**

She walked into her own apartment, locking the door behind her and arming the alarm system. She hung her coat in the hall closet and made her way to her bedroom. She quickly changed into her pajamas and climbed into bed after turning out the lights.

* * *

Moriarty picked the lock in a matter of seconds. He slipped inside quietly and went to disable the alarm system went off. After figuring out how to turn it off he took his time looking around the flat. on one side of the entryway there was a small closet containing exactly four coats. There were some shoes lined up against the other side of the hall. The hallway opened up into a nicely furnished living room, though it was lacking in any personal touches. He was still poking around when Ainsley emerged from her room, pointing a gun at him.

* * *

She awoke a few hours later to the sound of someone scuffling around her house. She had always been a rather light sleeper, which came in handy when one had Sherlock for a brother. She grabbed the gun from her bedside cabinet and moved silently to the door. She listened for a minute to the person moving around her flat. They weren't particularly hurried, so it was unlikely they were here to steal anything. That left only a few possibilities of who was on the other side of that door. She opened the door and pointed the gun at the intruder.

"Really Jim? It's four in the morning." Ainsley said, lowering her gun.

"Were you going to shoot me?" Jim chuckled.

"No, but if it was Sherlock I might have. Why are you here?"

"I have a job for you."

"Could this not have waited a few hours?"

"Nope." Jim said with a grin. "I need you to convince someone to give me something."

"Could you a little more specific?"

"There is a man named Clarence Mitchell. He runs a small smuggling ring who recently came across a few sketches from Johannes Vermeer. I have always had a soft spot for Vermeer."

"So you want me to get him to give you the sketches. Why couldn't this wait until morning?"

"Because I am excited." Jim said grinning like an idiot.

"And why not just get someone to intimidate him into handing them over?" Ainsley asked, fighting a laugh at the expression on his face.

"Because I wanted to test out my new toy." He stated.

"So where do I find this guy?"

"Everything you need to know is in this folder." As he said this he handed her a thick folder she hadn't seen he was holding.

* * *

He hadn't been kidding when he'd said everything she needed to know was in the folder. It had everything from his favorite sandwich to the name and address of his kindergarten teacher. She spent a few hours sifting through the file, coming up with a plan.


	3. Chapter 3

**Alright, so sorry for the relatively long wait... I may have kinda sorta forgotten about it a bit... Anyways, the Vermeer sketches are completely fictional. Anyone who has taken an art history class knows that Vermeer didn't even sketch out his paintings first, let alone have a sketchbook. Vermeer is by far my favorite of the Dutch Masters and I recently went to go see Tim's Vermeer which was super interesting and I think everyone should go see it. Oh, also Go Radio is an awesome band and I love them and everyone should listen to them. These things all have to do with the chapter which you should read now and I will shut up, or at least stop typing.**

Ainsley sat outside the coffee shop, drinking a small coffee. If her mark was on schedule he should be arriving any minute, though there were two times last month where he hadn't come at all. Right on schedule Clarence Mitchell walked into the coffee shop. Ainsley smiled to herself. After reviewing his file she knew this would be the best possible place to 'run into' her mark. She was dressed in jeans and a T-shirt (from a band Clarence liked) with an oversized plaid shirt on top. As she saw him about to walk out the door she stood and walked straight into him. Her remaining coffee spilling onto both of them.

"I'm so sorry." He said quickly looking around for napkins.

"No it was my fault." She said producing some napkins from a table nearby and handing some to him. She had done this before, but she forgot how much the hot coffee stung.

"Can I buy you another coffee?" He asked tentatively.

"Oh, no it's fine."

"I insist." He stated with much more confidence.

"Alright."

"I love Go Radio," he said, gesturing to her ruined shirt as they walked back into the coffee shop. "I've never seen that shirt before. Did you make it?"

"Yeah, they didn't have any designs I liked so I made my own." Though the real reason was she needed a shirt and they didn't sell any nearby.

"It's really good."

"I should make you one!" She said enthusiastically.

"What can I get you?" The barista interrupted them. Clarence looked at her expectantly.

"I'll just have a small black coffee."

"So what's your name then?" Clarence asked her.

"I'm Sarah." She stated simply.

"Well Sarah, I am Clarence and I would love you to make me a shirt." He smiled at her and she knew she had been successful in her hook. "However, I will need your number so I can check in on the progress of my future shirt." he said, faking a serious tone.

"Well as it is obviously an imperative part of the shirt making process, I will happily give it to you." She reached into her pocket and pulled out a pen. Taking a napkin from a nearby table she wrote down her mobile number and pressed it into his hand. "Call me." she said with a wink as she grabbed her coffee and left the shop. As soon as she was sure she was far enough away she pulled out her mobile.

**He's hooked -AH**

It took only a few seconds for him to respond.

**Good. Now finish the job. -JM**

* * *

Later that day, Ainsley was studying Clarence's file when her mobile started ringing. She looked at the caller ID and recognized the number as the one from the file.

"Hello?"

"Hey Sarah, It's Clarence."

"Oh, hey." She said. "If you are calling to check up on your shirt, it is nowhere near done."

"Actually," He paused, sounding slightly nervous. "I was wondering if you wanted to go on a date with me?" he asked uncertainly.

"I would love to!" She responded excitedly.

"Text me your address and I will pick you up at eight." He said with much more confidence.

"And how do you know I am free?" She asked teasingly.

"Are you?"

"No I am afraid I am going on a date with a very nice guy."

"Oh really?" he asked sounding disappointed.

"I am talking about you dummy."

"I knew that."

"So where are we going?"

"It's a surprise!"

"And how should I dress for this surprise?"

"Um, casual."

"Alright.

"I'll see you at eight."

"Can't wait." She replied, hanging up. She quickly typed a text to Jim.

**Going on a date tonight at eight -AH**

Again it was mere seconds before she got a reply.

**Oh I love when things progress faster than planned. -JM**

* * *

The date was going well. He had been doing his very best to impress Sarah. He had rented out his favorite little restaurant. It was by no means fancy or exclusive, but it was romantic and homely. He had asked the chef to prepare his finest dishes and from what he could tell Sarah was impressed. She seemed to like the small restaurant and the food. He was enjoying himself a lot and imagined going on many more dates with Sarah.

* * *

She had him exactly where she wanted him. He had rented out a whole restaurant to impress her. It might not have been a large restaurant, but it did have a certain charm. She listened and laughed with him, she even shared a few anecdotes of her own (they might not have actually happened, but at least she was contributing to the conversation). After dessert was finished he offered to take her home. She agreed, of course, and he paid the bill and they went outside to get a cab.

"This was fun." She said as they waited.

"It was," he paused, turning to face her. "Would it be too soon to ask you out on another date?"

"Well, I haven't even made it home yet." She said lightly moving ever so slightly forward. "I do believe you are supposed to wait until one date is over to plan the next."

"Says who?" He asked, taking a step forward so they were only centimeters apart.

"Oh, you know, people." She responded leaning in so their lips were nearly touching.

"Well screw them, are you busy tomorrow night?" He asked his breath ghosting over her lips.

"Yes. I am going on a date with a very nice guy." She said, pressing her lips to his.


	4. Chapter 4

**This chapter is pretty short, but I hope you like it anyways. **

The first thing Ainsley noticed when she got home was the light spilling from under her door. She unlocked it and walked inside to find her brother sitting at her kitchen table.

"Ah you are finally home." Sherlock said, turning around to face her. "How was your date?"

"I think it went well." Ainsley said with a shrug.

"And what does this unfortunate boy have that you are trying to get?"

"Some sketches my boss wants."

"Oh, so you have a boss now?"

"You already knew that." She accused.

"So I did. How is Mr. Moriarty?"

"Fine. He is rather impressed by my performance so far."

"Why wouldn't he be? You are the best grifter in London."

"Was that a compliment?" Ainsley asked, feigning surprise.

"No, it was a fact." Sherlock stated as he stood up. He began walking to the door, but he turned back with a curious expression on his face.

"What is it Sherlock?"

"Why are you working for him? You Could have built your own network, why work for him?"

"He is interesting, plus I didn't really like the whole 'self-employed' thing I had going on. It was boring." At this Sherlock nodded and left the flat without another word to his sister.

* * *

**Interesting am I? -JM**

She received the text not ten minutes after Sherlock left.

**I should have realized you would have my flat bugged. Got any cameras I should worry about? -AH**

**You are avoiding my question. -JM**

**And you are avoiding mine. -AH**

**Ah, but I am your boss. -JM**

**Alright, yes I think you are interesting. -AH**

**And what is it about me that you find so interesting? -JM**

**Is it the money? -JM**

**The power? -JM**

**My winning smile? -JM**

**Oh yes, that's it. I came to work for London's most powerful criminal because I think he has a nice smile. -AH**

**I am assuming that is sarcasm. -JM**

**How perceptive of you. -AH**

**Come on, tell me what it is. -JM**

She could practically hear him whining through the text.

**You. -AH**

**Wow thanks for that very in depth answer (look I can do sarcasm too!) -JM**

**The money, the power, and even the winning smile. What intrigues me about you is you. -AH**

**Now do I get an answer to my question? -AH**

**Yes. -JM**

**Yes I get an answer, or yes there are cameras? -AH**

**Seriously Jim which is it? -AH**

**Jim? -AH**

She waited by her phone for a while until she realized he wasn't responding anytime soon. She decided to get ready for bed. She was already under the covers when she got another text from Moriarty.

**Nice PJs ;) -JM**


	5. Chapter 5

**I am sorry is been forever! I have been super busy. The play I was in just wrapped up and we got a new puppy who doesn't like to leave my lap (which makes typing on my laptop problematic). I have also been working on my movie a lot, but here is a longer chapter than normal and a fun twist at the end :D Hope you guys like it!**

Mycroft straightened the knocker as he entered the building. He nodded to John, who was clearly leaving, and received an annoyed huff in return. He was just wondering what his brother had done now when a horrible stench met his nostrils.

"What have you done now brother mine?" Mycroft asked trying not to breath any more than necessary.

"Well, I was conducting an experiment on the rate of decay of human flesh in an enclosed environment-"

"Does 'enclosed environment' by any chance refer to that pickle jar over there?" Mycroft interrupted.

"Of course, it is airtight and impervious to most external conditions, excluding temperature. As I was saying-"

"Was it in the refrigerator?"

"Yes. The basis of my experiment was temperature differences. There is another in the cupboard. But then John-"

"Have you ever thought to mark your experiments, so that things like this wouldn't happen?"

"Well, no, but-"

"Sherlock, You are living with another person. If you want him to stay around it would help to be considerate at least once in a while."

"But-" Sherlock was silenced once again, this time by an icy glare.

"While all of this is… Fascinating, This was not why I came here. We have a problem."

"Oh, so you have finally realized Ainsley is working for Moriarty?"

"And how long have you known this?"

"Oh, just a couple of days." Sherlock stated offhandedly, though he was clearly pleased he knew something his brother hadn't.

"You didn't think to tell me because…?"

"It is far more fun to see you come to your own conclusions brother." Sherlock smirked, "Have you figured out who her mark is yet?"

"No, I am afraid I haven't."

"Well lucky for you, I have." Sherlock said excited as he walked over to the table where his laptop lay. He quickly turned it on and opened one of the folders on the desktop. In it were photos of Ainsley and a man he didn't recognise. "Clarence Mitchell. Small-time smuggler and fence. He recently came into possession of some Vermeer Sketches. Moriarty has tried to buy them, but he said he wasn't selling, so he is using Ainsley to get them." Mycroft flicked through the photos and files contained in the folder.

"Not bad Sherlock. I guess we don't have to worry about them trying to take over England just yet."

* * *

Ainsley and Clarence had now been on a total of five dates. They had all gone very well and Ainsley expected to get her hands on the sketches any day now. She figured that he would have the Sketches on display somewhere in his house, she just had to get there, drop some hints and they would be hers. Suddenly her mobile went off.

**Hey -C**

**Hey :) -S**

**I was wondering if you wanted to come over later? I can fix you dinner. Show off my excellent food ordering and arranging skills. -C**

**Haha sounds fun. What time? -S**

**7 work for you? -C**

**It's a date! -S**

Ainsley smiled to herself. She would have the sketches in no time.

**Going to his place tonight. -AH**

**You should wear the light wash jeans and the dark blue blouse with the buttons. -JM**

**Did you go through my closet? -AH**

**I like to know EVERYTHING about my employees -JM**

**Slightly creepy, but I expect nothing less of you. -AH**

**As you should. -JM**

Ainsley rolled her eyes and set down her mobile on the table as she went into her room to get changed. She put on the outfit Jim recommended and quickly twisted her hair into a simple braid. She touched up her makeup and glanced at the clock, she still had a good 30 minutes before she had to leave. Killing time she tidied her already spotless flat and checked her email. She left her flat and went out to the street to hail a cab. Quickly one pulled up and she stepped inside, but before she said the address he was already taking off down the road.

"I didn't-" She started, before realizing it was Jim driving. "Oh, hi"

"Hello Ainsley. I hope you get those sketches tonight. It has already been two and a half weeks, I can't wait forever you know." His tone of voice suggesting that something very bad would happen should she take much longer

"I know." Ainsley replied calmly, "I plan to get them by tonight, tomorrow at the latest."

"Good girl."

* * *

Clarence was showing Sarah around his flat, as their dinner hadn't arrived yet. She seemed pretty impressed by the place, but he was saving the best for last. As they walked last room he studied her face intently. He saw it light up the second she entered his private gallery. He had a pretty good collection, and he remembered her mentioning a love of Vermeer, which is why on the far wall were some framed sketches of his with large bows plastered on them.

* * *

It was far easier than she had thought. She had mentioned a few time her love of Vermeer, but thought she would have to work a little harder before he handed them over, yet here they were with bows on them.

"I remember you said you liked Vermeer and I recently acquired these, so I thought you might appreciate them more." He said with a grin on his face.

"They are amazing!" She squealed and went to kiss him.

"I figured you could take them home with you tonight, or tomorrow morning."

"Oh I can't stay the night, I have to go into work tonight."

"Oh. What time do you have to leave?" He asked, looking a little disappointed.

"I have to be there by ten."

* * *

At around 9:30 she left Clarence's and started for Moriarty's place. He wasn't driving the cab this time. When she got there she quickly picked the lock and entered his house. She didn't see him, but there were some… odd noises coming from a door down the hall.

"Jim?" She called out. After a few moments Jim exited the room covered in blood.

"Don't worry it's not mine." He said with a smirk.

"Don't really care, brought you a present." She pulled a box out of her bag. He went to reach for it. "Jim, you are covered in blood, you might at least want to wash your hands."

"Good point." He said, walking into a nearby room. "Feel free to take a seat, I will only be a minute."

"Okay." She responded going over to the living room. She heard the sound of a shower running and decided to poke around, just repaying the favor after all. He had an excellent collection of books, a box that appeared to contain a collection of petrified ears, and a few other gruesome nick-nacks. She grabbed a book at random and sat down to read it, when she heard the water stop. She opened the book, figuring she still had a few minutes.

"What are you reading?" Jim asked from behind her.

"A book called Goose Girl. You really have a thing for fairy tales don't you?" She asked turning to look at him, finding him only wearing a towel.

"Oh yes, now where are my sketches?"

"In the box on the table." She stated, not letting her surprise show on her face. "Do you need anything else, or should I go?"

"Do you find me attractive?"


End file.
